Just making it
by Abeo Eternity
Summary: Tweek has always had a lot of problems in his life, especially after his parents passed away when he was just a young teen. Living has been hard, but he's been making it. Just. Craig left 11 years ago, but he's back and Tweek still can't figure out why the other man is prying so hard. Just why is he so interested? He never was before. Creek, Side Pairings: Bunny, TBD.
1. Chapter 1

"Just a large double-double, please."

Life had changed a lot, Tweek noted to his self as he quickly pressed in the buttons on the touch-screen. He momentarily panicked over if he had pressed "large" or "extra large" before pressing "done", but after quickly triple checking, it turned out that he was worrying in vain yet again. Tweek seemed to do that a lot. When he looked up to tell the man his total, he realized he had been making the man wait for a little longer than normal and panicked again.

"T-two-f-fifteen, sir," he mumbled to the man, only _just_ audible enough for guy to hear. That was new too. The stutter, that is. He had managed to force his paranoia into his mind to only a certain extent before quitting therapy in the eighth grade. He promptly shook his head and forced his thoughts towards work once more. They were way too distracting and he could live in his head forever. He didn't need to think of such things here. Tweak didn't need to think of such things at all.

Although the purpose of getting the job at his parent's old coffee house wasn't for sentimental reasons (or so he tried to convince himself), the smell of the coffee beans and freshly baked goods seemed emanate the warmth he once felt from his family. Tweek had decided when he started this job that he only needed to feel the warmth and not think about why he did when he started this job. It'd only make things harder for him and God knows he didn't need that at all.

Tweek spent the next hour or so absentmindedly making coffees for customers, after a fellow employee (a young high school student, much to Tweek's dismay) noticed his distress at the register and directed him towards the drink station. He knew it was extremely sad that a fifteen year-old girl, almost six years younger than him, was more capable with customer service at the coffee house he was practically raised in, but Tweek couldn't bring himself to care. It was just one little thing in a big pile of shit that just added up for him every day.

He seldom glanced at the clock at work. Why would he? Tweek wasn't waiting for a break, or to go home. He was simply basking in his environment and solely focusing on his work. Yulie, his teenage coworker, tapped him on the shoulder lightly (knowing from previous experience that moving quickly and/or roughly could cause catastrophes around Tweek), before blandly stating, "It's your break, Tweek. Take a half an hour. You've been working at the station for four hours already and you haven't stopped once." One could almost assume she cared for him by those words, if she hadn't added, "I get in shit when I let you do this, you know, so get out of here already."

He paled at her reprimand, as he did six other days of the week, before quickly stuttering out a thank you (which she didn't even wait for him to finish). Face red in embarrassment, he quickly escaped through the back door to the side of the building for a smoke break. Apparently, he was having a half hour smoke break today.

With trembling fingers, most things become harder to accomplish. But one of the hardest things by far, in Tweek's opinion, is grabbing smokes and lighting a cigarette. This particularly sucks when you happen to be a chain smoker, which Tweek most definitely is. He stuck his hand in his back pocket, trying to draw out the pack that was in there. Of course, as he did almost every day, he fumbled it and the king-size pack fell right into the snow pile in front of him. He scowled as usual, and mumbled to himself something along the lines of, "thank god these come wrapped in plastic," before bending down to retrieve the oversized pack of smokes.

Tweek knew it was bad, but he had this habit of only focusing on certain little issues and not the world around him. If someone gave him one thing to watch, or do, he would obsess over every little detail. But if someone gave Tweek a variety of things to do, he becomes unable to do any of the tasks at all, even though he could complete them individually. This is why he's accepted the fact that if he wants to function in life _at all,_ observational skills of things more than one foot in front of him or that aren't blatantly obvious are just going to have to be cut out. Which is why when a pair of black leather shoes appeared in the snow in front of him, he let out a "dignified" squeak with the choice words of "Holy fuck!" and fell on his ass on the cold and damp cement step behind him.

"Still as jumpy as ever, I see," came a deep, slightly nasally voice from way above. It sounded slightly amused, but mostly monotone. His mind automatically began to draw conclusions, albeit most of the farfetched as hell. He highly doubted "God," or "faerie king" were the correct answers, so he shoved those ridiculous ideas into the corner of his mind before snatching his smokes out of the snow and standing up. But nothing could have prepared him for the surprise when he looked up. And by up, I mean way up.

Tweek knew he hadn't really grown since the sixth grade, and was one of the shortest guys he knew (he refused to admit he actually _was_ the shortest) standing at a solid five feet, but usually looking up wasn't so… strenuous. But when he got past the slim-fit black dress pants and the stylish black trench coat, nothing ever could have prepared him for the face he had to take a moment to put a face to.

"…Craig? C-Craig T-Tucker?" he stuttered out, too caught up in surprise to even notice he stuttered over his words. When the man himself slowly flipped him off, he somehow knew he wasn't hallucinating again. He also knew he needed a smoke more than ever. Tweek quickly ripped one of his cancer sticks from the package, before promptly shoving it in his mouth and lighting it, taking a huge drag. There was silence for a moment before he heard a long sigh, which almost sounded exasperated… and annoyed? Maybe the man got better with his emotions when he left town in the fifth grade. Tweek hoped he did. At least one of them needed to improve slightly and he was anything but the candidate.

"Smoking is bad for you," he looked up to see the outrageously tall man in front of him looking down upon him with disapproving eyes. Tweek felt himself shrink a little in slight fear.

"It… It is," he decided on, after a few moments of indecision. What was he supposed to say? Or Do? The cigarettes were the only things keeping him from running himself into the ground. They gave him a little bit of piece in his otherwise emotionally chaotic, but mostly just mundane life - in _his_ opinion, anyway.

After a couple moments of awkward silence, and under very careful scrutiny from his old classmate, Tweek had managed to completely finish the one cigarette off and quickly shoved a new one in his mouth once again, lighting it and taking yet another massive drag. He figured he should make small talk, but like was stated earlier; he was never too good at social situations. He went over a few scenarios in his head, but he decided going simple and to the point was probably the best thing he could do at this point.

"Wh-what are you doing b-back in town? You l-left like… eleven years ago," he asked, mentally berating his self when it took him a moment to calculate how long ago it actually was. This was why he was a barista in an unimportant coffee shop. He knew he was too dumb to actually manage anything else.

"I graduated from Colorado-U last week, and have already set up a job here for the summer as an intern. It's also my birthday tomorrow." It was an almost automatic reply to his question, which sounded like it'd been said to many other people as well. It brought a lot of questions to his mind, but before he could properly sort through his thoughts between taking quick, deep drags of the smoke in his hand, which was almost finished as well, Craig beat him to the next question.

"…Can I take you out for coffee sometime?"

Tweek immediately went into his old calming exercises from that sentence alone.

**A/N: So this is the first chapter of hopefully many. It's also my first fanfic ever (since I usually write original or RP), so please judge me… gently? Also, constructive criticism would be appreciated. I'm without a beta for the time being, so sorry about that as well. ;-; **


	2. Chapter 2

After a few moments of going over his meditational exercises prescribed to him by his therapist from eight years ago, Tweek realized he had left the… insanely taller older classmate waiting. Sidetracked by his height yet again. Jesus fucking Christ, how tall was the asshole anyway? He looked up quickly to check himself once more before scowling to himself. Why did he have to be so short? Tweek was convinced the universe hated him, but pushed that thought to the corner of his mind too. It was better not to think of all the things in his life that were wrong. He didn't want to push himself into _that_ state again.

"Six-seven," Came the deep, flat voice from above, startling Tweek out of his thoughts. At first he was confused about the random numbers, but then realized he must have voiced his earlier thoughts out loud. Utterly mortified by his inability to control his thoughts from entering dialogue, Tweek stubbed out his last smoke on the wall (which happened to be his sixth – too little in his opinion).

"My b-break is over," he mumbled, before turning around and trying to make a quick escape into the coffee house fifteen minutes early. His plan was easily thwarted when he felt a large hand grip his shoulder, pausing him in his tracks (but not before jumping slightly).

"You never answered my question," the giant behind him stated, tugging on his shoulder to turn him around, which Tweek complied with doing more out of fright than willingness.

"Uh.." Tweek starting, quickly scrambling for words in his mind. He figured honesty was the best bet. He didn't think he had it in him to have one more person in his life. He could only handle small amounts of things at a time, after all. "I d-don't think that's a g-good idea…" he managed, trailing off at the end. He prayed that he would just accept that and let him go.

"Why not?" Craig pressed, tightening his grip slightly. Tweek narrowed his eyes some. Even though he was inwardly nervous over the obvious strength the other man had, his indignation at being pressed for information took priority. But before he got the chance to speak, Craig spoke once more. "Tell me one good reason why seeing me, an old classmate you haven't seen in over eleven years, for coffee, isn't a good idea and I'll leave you be, Tweek."

Tweek quickly scrambled for many ideas, but there were none in particular that a) were something he'd want to share with almost a complete stranger and b) completely logical. He grumbled to himself under his breath before answering his old classmate.

"Sure, I'll g-go out to coffee with you s-sometime," he replied, blushing slightly when he tried to pry off the other man's hand from his shoulder and realized he couldn't. He could have sworn he heard an almost silent chuckle. Oh, so he thought this was amusing? Was he just fucking with him? Tweek should have known he was just fuc-

"Good boy," came the response with a hand ruffling through his hair. He startled some and jumped away from it, realizing that the hand that was gripping his should was now running its fingers through his hair and that he was free. What was with the over-familiar response? His wary eyes managed to sneak at the ones way above his own head, seeing their ocean-blue colour practically glowing in mirth. Wait, did he just refer to Tweek as "good boy?" What the fuck, man? He so _was_ fucking with him!

"Jesus Christ" he mumbled under his breath to himself, before hearing the giant above him continue before he could tell the man "he is saying no and that is final."

"When is your next day off?" He asked, causing Tweek to twitch slightly.

He failed to realize (or maybe it was care?) that normal people didn't work seven days a week to keep themselves from thinking, so Tweek promptly replied, "I don't h-have days off." Looking up though, he realized what he said must have been the wrong thing to say, due to the slight frown that had taken over Craig's lips. He scrambled for words to correct the error, never being the one who could stand being thought badly of. "I mean- um… I'm done b-by 5pm everyd-day." He corrected himself, proud of his own effort. He smiled weakly to try to make it up to the man above him, or ease his annoyance… but it just wasn't working. He felt his ego deflate even further. Why couldn't he just fucking get one thing righ-

"You'll meet me at 7pm on Thursday, then. That should give you enough time to get changed and be ready. Dress casually," Craig practically _demanded_, before turning and walking away from the stunned Tweek who could only stand there and blink as he watched the giant's form move down the street. "See ya then, Tweek."

Tweek had automatically reached for his smokes again in the time he had been spacing out, steadily smoking up another storm before he managed to ask out loud, "Wh-what the f-fuck?"

Nobody even noticed when he was five minutes late to return to his shift.

Tweek carefully shut the door to the decently sized three-bedroom apartment he lived in, and had lived in for the past three years. He didn't want to disturb his room mates, who he guessed were spending time together within the sheets (a blush crossed his face when he thought this) or snuggling on the sofa, watching television or something. He should have known that no matter what he tried, the ever-aware Kenny McCormick would hear him. He always had over the years, even in the foster homes, after all.

"Hey Tweek, how was work?" He heard Kenny from the other room while he was attempting to silently put his shoes on the shoe rack. He learnt the hard way that Butters would have his head if he chose to put them elsewhere. He squeaked slightly, cursing himself as the effeminate sound escaped him and bumped his head against the wall as he heard footsteps padding towards the hallway. As he stood up and started to remove his coat, Kenny came into view. He had been carefully choosing his words, as the situation that occurred during his break had been weighing on his mind since, but the sudden appearance of the taller blonde in front of him caused him to shoot out a reply.

"It w-was… fine." He finally replied in a subdued voice. Kenny raised his eyebrows, looking blatantly unbelieving of his words. The look in his eyes was saying that he'd get the information out of him whether Tweek liked it or not, but thankfully the pleasant smell drafting from the kitchen off to the side was distracting enough to Tweek to notice and make a rather smooth subject change (for him, anyway).

Feeling rather guilty about it, and not even sure why he was hiding what was happening tomorrow from the two, Tweek padded towards the kitchen. "Th-that smells delicious, dude! Wh-what're you cooking?" he finished asking as he entered the quaintly sized kitchen. It _was_ only a three-bedroom apartment after all. Butters was situated at the stove, stirring a wooden spoon in a rather large-sized pot, with steam pouring out of the top. Looking away from his creation for a moment, Butters smiled kindly at the smaller boy in front of him.

"Well howdy-doo to you, Tweek. Thanks very much for the compliment. And this is just a little experiment I'm tryin', if I do say so myself…" He trailed off for a moment; blushing from the simple compliment Tweek had given him. "Could you happen to be so kind as to set the table? It's almost done!" Tweek nodded and went to the cupboards besides the other boy, watching from the corner of his eyes as Kenny entered the kitchen and went straight for Butters, wrapping his arms around his waist and kissing his neck slightly. He felt slightly embarrassed for watching such an intimate moment and quickly finished grabbing the plates before turning towards the table and setting it. He probably would have felt even more embarrassed if it wasn't an everyday thing for Kenny to do. Everyone knew Kenny had absolutely no problems with PDA when it came to Butters Stotch.

He frowned when he started setting the plates down. He knew he should let the couple have their own space. They'd been together since freshman year, after all. Kenny McCormick wasn't the type of person to wait to get what he wanted and as soon as he'd seen Butters Stotch, that was that. Since after his parents passed when he was thirteen, Tweek had been from foster home to foster home, as well as Kenny when his parents got caught abusing their children by the children's aid. Kenny had always acted almost like Tweek's family; taking care of him when he couldn't and helping him in every stage of his own life since. He knew he was too dependent on others and quite frequently got mad at the couple for acting like doting parents, but quickly came to the realization almost every time that he wasn't exactly capable of taking care of himself either.

Still he felt bad about it, and often brought up the idea of him getting his own place, but the idea was immediately shot down by the other two, due to the fact that he wasn't the only one who knew he couldn't take care of himself. He blushed in shame at his own self as he finished setting the plates and sat down. He was pathetic. Why did he even-

"Tweek would you stop scowling at yourself? Whatever you're thinking it isn't true." Kenny interjected, causing the blush on his face to deepen as he attempted to glare at Kenny, but it ended up looking like a pout, causing the taller blonde to smirk.

"Sh-shut up, dude." Tweek replied after a moment, having no better comeback. The way Kenny could read him was so fucking creepy at times; it sent a shiver down his spine. Butters quickly set a big bowl of stew down in front of him and his thoughts were completely thrown by the size of it. He knew they were trying to make him eat more. They insisted he was skin and bones, but he just didn't have the appetite nowadays. He didn't see the point in nourishing his body when he was just barely _there_ after all.

He politely waited until Butters was situated at the table before he took the spoon and scooped a rather large chunk of stewing beef onto it with a little bit of brother, bringing it to his mouth and blowing on it lightly to cool it down. Immediately the other two started talking, ignoring Tweek's quietness. He usually was quiet these days anyway. Of course, when Tweek had finished chewing his first bite, Kenny decided to bring up their earlier short conversation at the door.

"So apparently, something happened to Tweek today, Butters." He boldly stated, causing Tweek to choke on his food. "Wh-what, no-what-no-!" he tried to interrupt, but the usually kind and polite Butters overrode his attempts at denial.

"Oh? What happened?" Kenny pushed his already finished bowl of stew (how the hell did he eat that fast, or was Tweek actually spacing out that long?) out of his way before leaning forward, supporting his head with his one hand.

"_Well_," he started, causing Tweek to wince slightly at the overly enthusiastic tone. Jesus, did he really have to ask like a 50 year old lady with the newest gossip? But the way Tweek watched Butters put his spoon down and lean towards Kenny with wide eyes caused Tweek to rethink that statement.

"It seems Tweek here doesn't want to share with us," he started, mock pouting, before throwing his hand over his eyes dramatically and falling back in his chair. "Oh, after everything we've done for you! Practically raising you and feeding you and keeping you clothed-" Tweek knew Kenny always thought of him as one of his kids but sometimes he could be a bit dramatic. Kenny stopped mid-sentence as Butters nervously glanced over at Tweek. He knew what was coming, but he also knew he couldn't stop it. Kenny narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms, radiating a cold aura immediately, full of irritation. "Tell me." He stated flatly, trying to literally throw daggers across the room with his eyes at Tweek. Tweek puffed up, trying to hold his ground as he always did, even though it scared him shitless when Kenny did this.

"…N-no." he managed after a few moments and crossed his arms stubbornly, causing Kenny to narrow his eyes even more.

"Now."

"…no!" Tweek stomped his foot slightly, not even aware he was fulfilling his roll as the child quite perfectly. Kenny growled loudly.

"I'll give you to the count of three, Tweak." He managed after a moment as a thick tension filled the room. Tweek remained stubborn in silence though.

"One…" Tweek bit his lip, chewing lightly.

"Two…Thr-"

"Craigshowedupatmyworktodaydu ringmylunchandaskedmeouttosu ppertomorrownight." He quickly blurted out, causing Kenny and Butters to raise their eyebrows, as the tension in the air immediately dissipated.

"Wait, what?" Butters said after a moment, not being able to comprehend Tweek's words at the rate he had spoken them. Tweek twitched slightly, and repeated his sentence, urged on by Kenny's blatant look that pretty much said '_go on, I'm not letting you leave the table until you tell us.'_

"C-craig T-tuck showed up at my w-work today during m-m-my lunch break and a-asked me o-out to supper t-tomorrow nig-night." He mumbled quietly, but loud enough for the two of them to hear. Butters widened his eyes as Kenny narrowed his own.

"And what did you say," he basically demanded. It wasn't even a question, and the tense atmosphere in the kitchen was appearing once again. Tweek looked down at his lap for a moment, gathering his nerves before replying nervously.

"Y-yes?" he pretty much asked out of nervous. He immediately yelped and even Butters' jumped as Kenny's fist hit the table.

"What the hell, Tweek?" Kenny scowled, pointing his finger accusingly at him. "You can't even take care of yourself and yet-" he paused, realizing what he had just said as Tweek scowled at himself more than anything else and stood up with his still practically full bowl of soup and walked over to the pot, pouring it back in (he only had a spoonful after all, and didn't even put the spoon back in). "I didn't mean-" he started trying to backtrack, but Tweek had heard enough.

"Stop," Tweek interrupted quietly, "I-I know, okay? I ca-can't even look after m-myself. He j-just… want-wanted to catch up, I g-guess. Is th-that really so… b-bad?" he sighed softly before quietly padding away from the kitchen table towards his room.

"I-I'm busy for the rest of the n-night. I… I ha-have some things to do." He finished, quickly walking into his room and closing it, missing the reprimanding glare Butters shot Kenny as the taller blonde slumped in his chair some.

In the safety of his room, Tweek pulled out the bottle of sleeping pills he was still prescribed to and plopped four into his hand. He knew he'd be out like a light in a matter of minutes. He took them with the glass of water by his bed, not even really realizing the stale-ness of the water in his depressed state. He quickly turned on all four of his alarms for work (he could never have too many alarms) and undressed, climbing into his bed in his underwear, staring forlornly at the ceiling. Why did he have to be so fucked up? Why couldn't he do _anything_ right?

He couldn't help the few tears that managed to slip down his cheeks before the drugs pulled him under into a deep sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

The chirping of a variety of birds had Tweek rising to consciousness feeling like a mac truck had hit him. He raised his hands to head for a second, just massaging his temples as the ridiculously loud alarm clocks continued to chirp. He groaned loudly. He felt like such shit, but it wasn't really anything out of the ordinary. Tweek always felt like shit in the mornings after he had to knock himself out with the sleeping medication he owned. After a few moments, when the chirping alarm clocks began to overpower his will to stay in bed, he slowly dragged himself out of bed, routinely shutting each one down.

The day before seemed rather hazy, he realized minutes later as he brushed his teeth in the bathroom, facing away from the mirror. It was a habit he started even before his parents had passed away. He had never liked how he looked, even as a child, and refused to acknowledge himself in any manner. Now it was just as much about his low self-confidence as it was the fact his face brought back too many memories of the family that had abandoned him to this cruel world.

It wasn't until he was pulling on his work pants causing his pack of almost-gone cigarettes to fall out of the back of his pocket, that he remembered what had happened the day before. Tripping over his pant legs, Tweek somehow managed to fall right on his bottom, squeaking indignantly as he did so. He sat there in a panic, remember the tall old classmate that had walked his way back into Tweek's life the day before.

"C-craig Tucker!" he said out loud for a moment, feeling rather stupid as he did so. It was just a million thoughts about how today would go wrong was going through his mind and he involuntarily let out a twitch. The twitch though, grounded him back into reality and caused his eyes to widen. He hadn't done that in _years_. He shook his head to relieve the thoughts in his mind as he stood up, rubbing his backside as he did so. He wouldn't be surprised if there was a bruise there by lunchtime. Tweek quickly grabbed a shirt without really looking at what it was. He didn't really ever bother. That's something that hadn't changed since elementary school – his inability to dress himself.

He smoothed his hair down with his fingers and darted for the door, slipping on his shoes and grabbing his coat as he slipped out the door. The glance at his clock had told him his self-pity moment in bed was about to make him late. He accidently slammed the door on the way out and winced as he ran down the stairs, not having the luxury of being able to wait for the elevator.

Once he got to flat ground and outside, Tweak started darting down the sidewalk towards his work (which was a good six blocks away), attempting to put his coat on at the same time. He swore to himself he'd try harder to get up next time, and maybe taking the amount of pills he had last night was a little too much to drown his memories and thoughts away. He did this to himself almost every morning though, and no matter how much he adamantly swore to his self in his mind that it would change, he didn't see it happening anytime soon. He knew he was a hopeless case.

Ten minutes later, he managed to scare the living hell out of his co-worker by barging into the side door of the coffee house and somehow managing to trip over his own feet as he did so, falling flat on his face and hitting himself in the eye with the toe of her boot. He yelped rather effeminately and automatically scooted back, pressing his back against the door as he held his eye, staring accusingly at the teenage girl that was scowling in front of him. She probably appeared there know-

"Sometimes I wonder what's wrong with you," the moody girl started, crossing her arms, "but then I realize there's not enough paper to write it down." She sneered slightly and walked away, but not before calling over her shoulder that his shift started five minutes ago. He scowled at himself once more for being unable to do anything properly before standing. He felt the ache around his eye tenderly with his hand before putting it down and grabbing his apron from the rack in the back. He sighed lightly, punching in, before going out to work. He was rather sure he was going to have a black eye today too.

The day passed rather slow for him on a whole. He wasn't sure what this meant for his mind, but he knew it meant he was rather anxious about speaking with Craig. He couldn't help but wonder why his old classmate had asked him to eat with him. Was he that desperate for company? Or was it that he didn't have enough money? He pondered some as he took money from one of their regulars, an old lady that had a horrid fascination with Christmas sweaters all times of the year. No, it couldn't be that he didn't have enough money; he was a lawyer… He scrunched his nose open as he placed the crisp twenty-dollar bill in the register and began to grab the change. But hadn't he said that he had just graduated? Realization flitted across his features as he began to move faster. Student loans! That had to be it! He didn't have enough money to feed himself so-

"He's using me for my money…" Tweek muttered to himself, utterly stressed out by the idea, as he handed the old woman her change.

"Sweetie, you work at a coffee shop." A voice reminded him, "Who would try to get money off of a minimum-wage worker?" He agreed with the voice, before realizing that it had been the old woman he was serving. His look of horror grew as she winked at him on the way out. Had he just…?

"We can now add talking to yourself to your list of problems, freak. Just get behind the coffee machine and try not to fuck up back there too." His coworker voiced from behind him. He slumped his shoulders and complied, wondering how this day could possibly get any worse.

By the end of the day, he had smoked his reserve of cigarettes down to nothing, spilt two cups and broken two glasses. He sighed, wiping down the window after closing time. It was times like this when he wondered how the hell he was still employed. Some days were good… but those were few and far in between. He wondered what it would be like to be normal for once, but quickly shook the thought from his mind. He wouldn't punish himself with dreams as well.

Since he had screwed up so many times during the day, he had been elected to stay after closing for cleaning duty. Which screwed up his day even more, since he was supposed to meet Craig for something to eat and to supposedly catch up at 7pm.

It wasn't until he locked up at 6:30pm that he realized the man hadn't specified _where_ they were to meet. His shoulders slumped as he came to the conclusion that the man was fucking with him after all. It wasn't any different than grade school; they had only aged physically. It seemed that way, anyway, at the time.

So when he was dragging his feet home, with his ass and eye aching from the bruising, caused throughout the day, with his hands stuffed deep in his pockets, it came as no surprise that the street-cleaner managed to cover him completely in slush as he turned the corner. Tweek could only stand there in shock for a minute before feeling like he could literally start crying. He sniffled some, but reminded his self to be a fucking grown up and that adults didn't cry about stuff like this. They just dealt with it.

So that's what he did.

When he managed to get home by 7:00pm, he just wanted to roll up in a ball and drug himself to sleep all over again. Turning around the corner of the apartment building, he couldn't contain the shocked gasp he had made caused by the scene playing out in front of him.

Craig stood leaning against the door of his apartment, openly conversing with Kenny and Butters. Kenny had his arm loosely snaked around Butters' waist, leaning the smaller man back into him, as Craig had his hands comfortably tucked in his pockets. They looked like they were all best friends, just casually meeting up after a few days apart. Tweek missed the tense-ness between Kenny and Craig before all the attention was focused on him, causing him to fidget slightly on the spot before cautiously approaching. He felt like snorted at his self in disgust. Only he would approach his own apartment like he didn't belong there. He ignored the little voice in his mind reminding him he actually _didn't_.

It only took Kenny's raised eyebrows and Butters widened eyes to wonder what the hell everyone was acting so worked up by until Craig approached him slowly. Tweek was thankful for the time being that their height difference was so dramatic, so he had an excuse not to look up at him.

"What happened to you?" Craig asked, with a hint of exasperation to his voice. Tweek felt his face redden in embarrassment and shame. He probably looked like absolute shit right now. He quickly scrambled for an answer, but couldn't find an appropriate one fast enough.

"U-uh…" he let out quite articulately, feeling quite on the spot as three people were all staring at him. Craig let out a long sigh, before shaking his head slightly.

"Never mind, just go get into some dry clothing. You're drenched." Tweek nodded before slipping past the other two bodies at the door, heading for his bedroom. He didn't really think about his actions until he opened his door and heard Kenny.

"What the hell, Craig? Our little Tweek actually listens to you without questions?" he heard the tall blonde ask with a hint of incredulity in his tone. He could practically _feel_ the smirk Craig was giving Kenny from where his body had frozen outside of his bedroom.

"It would seem so, wouldn't it?" The monotone voice replied, with a hint of smug satisfaction barely contained within it.


End file.
